


Mr. Bolton

by CrowKing



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, SMUUUUUT, Shameless Smut, Smut, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12850134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: Fic Request: one day reader bumps into Ramsay in the street and instead of 'I'm sorry' she goes like 'OMG you're so handsome' and then she understands what she said and apologize and practically ran away from him. But Ramsay already got he's eyes on her, so he orders his Bastard's Boys to find everything they could on her, and they find out she's one of the models in Petyr Baelish international model agency. So, Ramsay arrange things that way, that Petyr needs an office with good view on the city for the next photoshoot, and Ramsay's office is the best in town, and he graciously agrees to let them use it. And I'm not sure how to get there, but he and reader have sex on his working desk right in front of his city view mirror





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some shameless smut that a reader requested, if you'd like to check out more of my Ramsay works, go ahead and check out my tumblr ( https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/ )

Strutting down the street was your forte. Your heels didn’t click, they stomped. You made noise walking down the city street without speaking. Currently, you were on the phone speaking to your manager about upcoming projects.

“So, we’re confirming the audition for Victoria’s Secret then?” you asked. You carefully listened to the details your manager was telling you. This was the highlight of your career, and you weren’t about to mess this up. 

It wasn’t until you bumped into him that you saw him. You dropped your phone, and he spilled his coffee on his chest because of you. You turned sharply to see his jaw and his slight five o’clock shadow. His cold eyes looked into yours. His suit stained from the coffee.

You had to apologize. This was your fault. “Oh my god, you’re so handsome.”

The young man blinked at you. That wasn’t an apology. What were you doing? You covered your face with your hands, picked up your phone, and scattered yourself to the wind. That wasn’t an apology, but he looked so good. You took one glance back to see he was still staring at you. 

You looked back forward and kept walking. Your phone almost dropped again, but with careful handling you got the phone back to your ear and apologized to your manager. Little did you know, the young man was already on the phone talking about you.

“Do you have visual?” he asked.

“Yeah. Do you want her to pay for the damages?”

“No, I don’t like the suit anyways. I need you to get me any information you can on her,” he spoke into the cell, walking you half-running away from his reach.

“Why? It seems fruitless if you’re not gonna make her pay for dry cleaning.”

“I got other plans for her,” he said, hanging up the phone. 

Later that day, four men dressed in loose t-shirts, jeans, and dirty sneakers gathered around a conference table. A large glass window was to their left. Standing there overlooking the city was their boss: Ramsay Bolton.

He stood tall in a better suit than earlier. He was in all black, fidgeting with his watch. “Tell me everything.”

“She’s a model with Petyr Baelish’s agency,” Ben Bones started. Part of his tattoo sleeve showed. He had a skull and crossbones and another one of his cat, Ms. Lillian McLovely. “She’s done a lot of high profile projects.”

“She’s got quite an Instagram following,” Alyn said. “Over 500k, she’s pretty popular. She frequents a lot of smoothie places.”

“That’s good and all, but how do I see her again?” Ramsay asked the room. 

“That day you crossed paths with her, you said she was on the phone,” Yellow said. “Turns out, she was speaking with her manager about an audition for Victoria’s Secret. I contacted her manager about having new photos taken at your office, for the best lighting and view of her. I emailed him pictures of your office and he confirmed the shoot.”

Ramsay’s smile lit up his entire face. He started to applaud. “Yes! Thank you! This is exactly what I’m talking about! When does she get here?”

“It’s not that simple,” Yellow said in a bored tone. “We need to hire caterers, get some equipment. We need to make this look like a real deal before you put your paws on her. Get me?” 

Ramsay frowned, but Yellow Dick was right. He needed to make this look real. The rest of the day, the Bastard’s Boys gathered what material they need for the ‘photoshoot’. Ramsay spent the day working in his office for his father.

Mainly he spent the day researching you. Looking through your Instagram feed, carefully looking over the photos, taking in every detail of you. He imagined himself inside of you rocking back and forth. He wanted to touch you so badly that he started to touch himself in his office.

His eyes fluttered closed as he reached down his pants. He grabbed onto his manhood and started to stroke slow as he imagined you in his office. You kneeled in front of him, taking in the sight of his penis. Ramsay smiled to himself, seeing how pleased you were.

He started to pump himself harder as he watched pretend you put your mouth around him. You started to bob your head up and down on him while he held your head. Ramsay moaned and watched pretend you enjoy yourself.

“Hey Ramsay, we secured a photographer—

Surprised someone walked in his office without knocking, Ramsay fussed around with things on his desk. He knocked his fist on the underside on the desk while trying to straighten himself out. He hid the immediate pain in his knuckles and scowled at the intruder.

“And you’re wasting your time by telling me this because?”

“We have everything done, sir,” Grunt said. “I just wanted you to know.” Poor Grunt. It wasn’t his fault he was stupid. Ramsay almost threw a stapler at his head until he realized his boner was still active, so he didn’t want to stand up.

That night Ramsay thought of you. He scrolled through more pictures. At first, he thought the obsession was based on your beauty. The curves and lines of your body, how perfect your hair looked, how your eyes stared at the camera like it was your lover.

The next day Ramsay watched over the preparations in his office. People moved to and fro with food, equipment, and clothes. 

“This is perfect!” he heard a voice say. Ramsay turned to see Petyr Baelish beginning to take charge of the operation. “You must be Ramsay!” Petyr held out his hand to him and shook it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you enter. You didn’t look his way. You walked away from him to go into hair and make-up.

“—again thank you for letting us use this venue,” Petyr finished his sentence. Ramsay nodded and kept his eyes on you. “She’s single, if you were wondering.” Petyr commented.

“Oh, I wasn’t—

“You’re not the first man to look at her like that, and you won’t be the last,” Petyr’s phone rang and he answered it. The words rang through Ramsay’s head. He wasn’t the first? That’s ridiculous. What a stupid thing to say. Then again, he watched you step into the set with beautiful silk robes on. 

Of course he wouldn’t be the first. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders in waves. Ramsay wondered what you smelled like. He imagined himself inhaling your hair and neck, and that’s when it happened. You noticed him.

At first, you didn’t know whose office this was. It didn’t matter. It had luxurious with a view of the city and the sky. You noticed the logo of an ‘X’ everywhere, but none of it clicked until you locked eyes with him. You couldn’t look away from him. His hair was wild, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. His thumb ran along his bottom lip. He couldn’t look away either.

You found it particularly hard to do your job while he watched you. You felt like you were a part of some twisted nature documentary. You, a vulnerable female prey, being put on display for the dominant predator. It was an odd feeling. The flashes of the camera would snap your attention back, but every so often he would stand so close to the set that assistants would have to ask him to back away.

You had to say something. If this was his office, you had to know. The photographer granted everyone a ten minute break. You fleeted over to him. You wouldn’t be so flustered this time.

“Hey, it’s you,” you greeted him. “From the other day in the street?” He smiled down at you, and you felt your heart beat faster.

“You caught me,” he said.

“Is this your office?” You pointed everywhere. He nodded his head. “This is goregeous. What exactly do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer for my father’s firm,” he replied. “I have very devious clients.”

“Oh? Like who?”

“Wall Street,” he smiled as if he knew something you didn’t. “They pay me well to keep their secrets. Lovely view.”

“It is! The city looks like a dream from here.”

“I wasn’t talking about the city view,” he winked at you. Before you could say anything, the photographer called everyone back. While Petyr was making more calls and the photographer kept shooting picture after picture, Ramsay and you played your little game.

He would watch over you. Posing in different positions, licking his lips. Your eyes would float to him every once in a while. He wanted your eyes on him, not the camera. The camera didn’t want to be your lover. You almost laughed at him, watching his annoyance grow.

After people were packing up to leave, you changed back into the dress you wore when you came in. Ramsay walked over to you with a drink in hand.

“Care to stay to watch the sunset?” he offered you the tumbler full of something. You took it. You had some time on your hands before you were going to meet up with your girlfriends. You took the glass and sipped at it. Both of you watched the sunset in silence.

“So why did you do it?” you asked him. “You barely know me.”

“I know you. You’re a famous model, Y/N,” he told you. You shook your head.

“Anyone can say that. You don’t know me. Why did you do it?” you asked again. Ramsay’s fingers found the collar of your dress.

“I like pretty things,” he hummed. “I like breaking them.” Ramsay grabbed a hold of the zipper at the back of your dress. 

“You want to break me?”

“Badly,” Ramsay’s finger traced the back of your zipper. You looked outside watching the sky change different colors. Ramsay’s hand caressed its way to your front. Both of his hands found the hem of your dress. His fingers ran along it, begging for something to start.

He was waiting for your response.

“Is this why? You want me?” you heard him smirk.

“You have no idea how much,” he said into your ear. Ramsay pulled down the zipper of your dress to reveal your underwear. You slipped out of the dress easily. He took your arms and guided you over to his desk where he bent you over for all of the city to see. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you laughed to yourself. Half-naked in a stranger’s office, bent over his desk for everyone to see.

“Ramsay,” he said taking off his belt. “Ramsay Bolton.”

“I’m going to forget that,” you flirted. 

“No you won’t,” he snaked you with the belt. “Say my name.”

“Wha— Ramsay spanked you with the belt again. It stung. 

“Say my name or I’ll do it again.”

“Ramsay,” you said. Ramsay spanked you again.

“Louder!”

“Ramsay!” he grabbed at at your ass and kissed it over and over again. 

“Good girl, very good girl,” he said, kissing your ass. He slowly pulled your underwear and kept kissing you. “You’re going to remember me. You’re going to remember my name. Understood?”

“Yes, Ramsay,” you said, he was turning you on so much. His fingers ran down you, touching your folds and everywhere else. 

“Say my name,” he ordered you. 

“Ramsay!” you shouted again. He spanked you harder with the belt. 

“All of it,” the belt hung in his hand, waiting for the next punishment.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bolton,” you whimpered. You thought you heard the wind of the belt coming to spank you again, but you open your eyes to see Ramsay’s wicked smirk.

“Yes, exactly, Mr. Bolton,” he smirked, rewarding you with kisses and his fingers running down you again “Call me Mr. Bolton again.”

“Yes, Mr. Bolton,” you did as he told you. You said it over and over again. Ramsay continued to kiss you and lick you in your folds. Two of his fingers entered you, and he created a rhythm, pumping in and out of you. He put a third finger inside of you which earned him a moan from you.

“Good girl,” He said, standing up. Ramsay undid his pants and put himself inside your wet vagina. His hands grab your hips and he thrusted and push you against his desk. You watched papers and pens fall off from the force he was pushing.

You smiled feeling the pleasure of him inside of you, and watching his personal items fall off his desk more. Ramsay thrusted harder and you felt him grow harder inside of you. And hell, he felt good. Your walls grew smaller and tighter around his expanding manhood. You were about to release.

“Mr. Bolton!” your breathing grew shorter. His grip was tighter. His nails dug into your skin, and it hurt so good. You felt your crescendo about to come. 

“Say my name again!” he ordered you. He was close.

“Mr. Bolton, please. I’m going to— 

You couldn’t wait any longer. It felt like he reached new levels within you to break. Waves shook your body on his desk. He cried out in pleasure, cumming all over your back, creating a mess of things. Ramsay grabbed your hips and helped you stand. Your legs shook a little, and it made you giggle.

“It looks like we made a mess of things, Ramsay,” you commented to him. Ramsay took his shirt off and began to clean your back. 

“That’s Mr. Bolton to you,” he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic Request: OMGOMGOMG you're back! I want to request part2 of Mr.Bolton if this is ok? Like, reader thought it was a one time thing, but Ramsay, who'd been spying on her since the last time they saw each other, is more than determined to make her his. Can you add some publicevent!sex? Thank you so much!

The wonderful thing about being a model was that you and model friends were often invited to parties. Exclusive parties. Parties where billionaires, celebrities, and single men had a good time because well, what else are parties for? 

You hopped out of the limo with your posse of equally beautiful queens. Each of your friends looked just as fabulous as the next. You knew it would be a good idea to raid each other’s closets for parties such as this one. You wore your own red dress, but you borrowed red heels from Nicole who borrowed your earrings. Nicole held up her phone, snapping a selfie of the both of you. She captioned away hashtagging the words “queens” “roomies” and what you thought was the words “drunkasskunks”

You didn’t need to give a name to the bouncers because Petyr led the way inside. He was a very organized boss. A great boss, even, but he never stopped working. Petyr made his way immediately to Varys networking with him faster than most men should. 

You made your way to the bar immediately. Before you reached it, you noticed someone out of the corner of your eye. Someone oddly familiar who you only caught a glimpse of because they ran across the party faster than a track runner. Maybe it wasn’t that important. You continued your way to the bar and decided to spoil yourself and order a wonderfully large spiked iced tea. It tasted sweet, and you could tell it was made with stronger stuff than what you were used to.

One down. Two down. Three down. Next thing you knew, you were on the dance floor with Eliza. Well, her proper name was Elizabeth, but right now she thought the ‘Beth’ part was too boring, so she went by Eliza now. You weren’t going to deny Eliza her wishes. So, you held hand and danced away to a pop and light beat while you screamed, “Go Eliza! Yes Queen!”

The night was proving to be successful. You were wonderfully drunk by the feel of your flushed face. Your friends felt flirtatious and were having fun. Petyr was exchanging his business cards. You looked around at the party once more and thought to yourself.

“I’m going home with someone tonight. But who?” you giggled when you realized you said that aloud rather than to yourself. You stumbled over to the bar the best you could in heels. Why were you even wearing heels? Why did heels have to be a thing? You almost took them off before you felt a hand steady your back and speak to the bartender.

“I’m paying for her drinks the rest of the night,” he handed his card over to the bartender who nodded and walked off. You turned your head to see Ramsay Bolton standing next to you.

“Mr. Bolton?”

“Y/N,” his smug smile already tugged at your heartstrings. He sipped at his drink while you gulped down yours. Ramsay kept you steady with his hand at your back.

“Had enough already?” 

“How’re you here?” you slurred.

“I knew where you were, darling,” Ramsay guided you away from the bar and towards the more private VIP areas. “I’ve had my eye on you since our first encounter.” A security guard let you through the red rope. The private area was decorated by intimate lighting and dark curtains. 

“Eye on me?”

“Yes,” Ramsay slipped his hand around your neck. His thumb pressed against your windpipe. “See, after our little tryst, I just couldn’t let you go. And I’ve given it some thought. I’ve decided something about you.”

You leaned into Ramsay’s hand. It felt oddly safe, but you were curious at what he decided. “What did you decide?” 

Ramsay sat closer to you. His knee touched yours. He leaned in close to your ear. The music in the party was plenty loud, but you heard exactly what he said.

“I’ve decided that you’re mine.”

You pulled away from him, realizing what he was saying. Ramsay snapped his fingers and the curtains were closed. You tried to go somewhere, but Ramsay held tight onto your wrist. He pulled you back into the seat with force.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he chuckled. “Did I say you could go?”

“No, but—

“But what? You liked me so much before. You were so impressed. What changed, hm?” Ramsay asked you. His thumb tucked your chin. 

The world around you moved in circles, but the beat was hypnotizing. And so was he. Nobody ever “owned” or “possessed” you. Nobody ever forced you to sit and stay. Granted, you didn’t know many men like Ramsay. He was aggressive. He was forceful. And he wanted you.

“Nothing,” you cleared your throat, trying to appear to be sober. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Show me,” Ramsay pulled away from you and sat back, his legs widespread. “Show me nothing’s changed.” You looked down to see Ramsay’s cock outlined in his pants.   
“Here? Now?” you looked to the curtains where the bass played louder. You heard a small group of people cheer.

“Yes, what else did you think I meant?” Ramsay sipped at his drink more. You took your hand and put it inside his pants. You could feel how hard he was. Clearly, he’d been thinking about you for some time. You began to pump his cock. He smiled, seeing follow his orders. 

Outside the VIP area, people kept partying and drinking as usual, oblivious to what you were doing just a few feet away from them all. A new faster beat took over the speakers, and you unconsciously went to the beat. This was more fun than you thought.

You unzipped his dress pants to get better access to him. Feeling how drunk you were, you decided to push your boundaries more. You were behind a curtain after all, who would see you? You put your mouth around his cock, teasing him. He responded by deep moaning. You gave him relief from wanting you for so long.

He grabbed the back of your head and started to pull at your hair. You could feel the slight pain, but it only motivated you more to move faster, take him in deeper, and to impress him more. You felt good knowing you could bring him such pleasure. He pulled you back up to his face and kissed you. 

Your hands went up his chest and around his shoulders. You straddled him, taking charge of the sexual session. You insert him inside of you, and both of you watched each other react to the first penetration. His dark-circled eyes locked with yours as he started to bounce you and down him. It felt good. Your muscles felt relaxed and the bass grew louder with every bounce.

“You’re getting brave now,” Ramsay smiled. “What if someone catches us?” You took his face and kissed it hard, forcing your tongue to go inside his mouth. When you pulled away, you slowly teased him by moving your hips around. 

“What if I don’t care?”

“That’s my girl,” Ramsay fucked you harder. You found yourself trying to catch your breath from him bouncing you and down. You bit his ear to take some of the pressure off. He groaned loud and slammed your body on top of the coffee table in front of you. Both of your drinks spilled as Ramsay’s cock pumped inside of you. 

None of you cared if someone saw. Let them see. Ramsay pulled out of you and spilled his seed all over your red dress. His thick substance would create a stain later, but right now he hovered over the top of you. His eyes followed the curves of your body.

“I’ve marked you,” he said. “You’re mine now.”


	3. Chapter 3

You rushed into Ramsay’s private office giggling to yourself. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was wrong, but you held his phone in your hands. It buzzed and vibrated and chimed, and Ramsay couldn’t answer any of it. His eyes were constantly on the device and not on you.

Despite dating for several months, you were jealous of his cell phone. You peeked out from his office door to see Ramsay storming towards it. You giggled more and hid right under his handmade wooden desk. No one could tell from the front, but where Ramsay sat there was big enough space for you to fit under there.

You heard Ramsay’s initial footsteps in his office. The door clicked shut behind him. A small groan escaped him as he continued walking around. You heard things shifting and moving.

“Where are you? I need my damn phone,’ Ramsay spat. Another giggle escaped you. Seconds later, a slam on the wooden desk and Ramsay’s face poking into the small space made you flinch.

“Does that belong to you?” he asked.

“No,” you smiled, waving it at him. 

“Give that back to me. Now.”

“What if I don’t want to?” you gave Ramsay your best shit-eating grin. Ramsay twitched. His nostrils flared.

“What if you don’t want to?” He repeated back to you. Before his hand could reach your throat, you both heard the door click open.

“Mr. Bolton, your 2pm appointment is here,” Ramsay’s assistant, Alan, announced.

“What?” Ramsay said caught off-guard. 

“Your 2pm appointment. Locke’s sons. They’ve come to ask for your advice regarding their new business,” Alan explained. “Shall I send them in?” Ramsay sat down in his chair.

“Of course,’ he gestured. “Send them in.” Ramsay’s foot kicked you a bit. You only smiled, feeling proud of yourself. You heard two young men walk in and sit down in chairs. As they started to speak on why they were there, your fingers trailed Ramsay’s suit. It was a dark gray suit with a silver-lined pattern running down the fabric.   
Ramsay nudged you with his foot again to warn you to stop. Your eyes caught a hold of the member between his legs and you got a bright idea. You reached for his thighs and zipper. 

“So, what do you hope to accomplish then?” Ramsay asked the two young men. They looked to each other and then back to Ramsay.

“We’re not sure ourselves. We like working for ourselves though!” one of them said excitedly. 

“Yeah! We are our own bosses!” The second high-fived the first. Ramsay rolled his eyes and then felt your fingers pull at his zipper. His hand pushed your hands away, but you were determined. You stuck your hand into his pants and pulled out his member for yourself. Ramsay swatted away your hand again and tried to readjust himself.

Then, you put your mouth over the tip of his penis. You swallowed it slowly feeling his size go into your mouth. You heard Ramsay struggle.

“And-and your business plan is?” He asked them. You continued to slowly take him in and then out. Your thumb stroked the front of him while you flicked your tongue back and forth on his tip. Ramsay groaned and sharply inhaled, trying to keep his composure.

“Business plan? What’s that?” the second young man asked. Ramsay chuckled out of context and quickly regained composure.

“It’s-it’s when you develop your ideas into your pants—plans! You develop ideas into plans,” Ramsay explained. You took him all into your mouth again. Teasing him like this will surely get you into trouble. Soon you felt Ramsay’s hand starting to control the process. Hi fingers entangled into your hair and pulled it. 

You were in for it now.

With a fistful of hair, Ramsay pushed your head down on him. You took in all of him almost gagging, but Ramsay spoke over you.

“To become a successful man, you must take control of every situation,” you heard Ramsay smile. “This isn’t playtime. It’s business. You take what is yours.” Ramsay’s member stayed in one position in your mouth for the longest time until Ramsay loosened his grip so you could come up for air. Once you did, Ramsay’s fingers shoved down your throat. 

He took his fingers out of you, slapped you across the face, and then put his member back inside you. He held your head down him.

“If you want to be taken seriously, you’ll have to come back with something better boys,” Ramsay shooed them out the door. The poor young men left feeling more defeated than enlightened. When the door clicked shut, Ramsay let you gag on him again. Your saliva dripped down on him, making him easier to suck on. 

He pulled your head out from under the desk and kissed you hard. Wet saliva dripping from both of your mouths. His hand wrapped around your throat as he pulled you close to him.

“You want to embarrass me, hm? You want attention?” Ramsay pulled you up from the floor and bent you over the desk. He held your hands behind your back and tore any fabric that was in the way. You didn’t like being punished like this, you loved it.

Ramsay entered you without any warning and started to ravage himself on you. Things fell over from the desk, and you smiled knowing that he was taking his anger out on you. Ramsay smacked your ass.

“Did I tell you that you could laugh? Shut the fuck up!” Ramsay grabbed your hips and fucked you until he was spent. A trail of his seed dripped from you as you sighed from the pleasure. Ramsay walked over to his personal bar and poured himself a shot. He drank it immediately and turned to you.

“If you do that again, I’ll make you scream sweetheart. Understand me?”


End file.
